Song | King of Fighters |
Artist | Del The Funky Homosapien |
Album | Golden Era |
{Ladies and gentlemen, rap fans of all ages | |
Tonight we have a literal state of pandemonium | |
As Sir DzL, aka Joe Higashi, makes his way to the ring | |
As you can see | |
You can almost taste the electricity in the air, ladies and gentlemen} | |
{The challenger had better live up to the trash | |
He was talking at the press conference two nights ago | |
Or it looks like he'll be leaving the ring fingerless | |
After Higashi's signature scissor kick | |
Oh, this is gonna be a good one, rap fans} | |
I'm back with the tiger kick | |
Joe Higashi, all team activist of spit swivel grip | |
Crippling blows within editions of flows | |
It's a gala of gargantuan proportions | |
The greatest show in stereo | |
The weary ol' drag you been hearin' is dead | |
We playin' funk at the burial grounds and it's a merry ol' sound | |
And a jolly good time when we body fools with rhymes | |
Smell the burnin' flesh when the words of death | |
Bring eternal rest or internal stress | |
Beef or chicken, either way the meat is sickened | |
Bacteria, we here in your kitchen | |
Fools hearin' but they clearly don't listen | |
Until they sittin' in a twister on they way to Oz | |
And that's when I'mma holla at y'all | |
'Cause you gon' need the wizard's expertise | |
If you expect to leave | |
Sir Di, the midnight savior spittin' my flavor | |
Gettin' my paper, neighbor | |
To catch a tiger, you have to try a little harder | |
I already commandeered you cargo | |
Sir D-Z, the blue meanie, few see me | |
A new species like ET | |
I'm too pretty | |
I can't let you hit me | |
I'm the greatest of all time | |
Sir DzL, King Of Fighters | |
Bring on your bigmouths, bring on your writers | |
They gon' be workin' overtime catchin' arthritis | |
Bring whoever do ya hooks, bring your choirs | |
Bring on your phony thugs, they all liars | |
Makes no difference to Di, I'm on fire | |
Funky with it, go ahead, touch me | |
I'm beggin' you, come try to rush me | |
You weak kid, soon as the beat kick | |
You already in deep shit, may as well eat it | |
Put your money where your mouth is | |
In other words, you are what you eat so bon appétit | |
So long to competition, they can't conquer | |
Or defeat or compete, I stomp out they teeth | |
All 32, metaphorically with words I use | |
Physical? I ain't finna get into that right now | |
Keepin' on the right route, promote restraint | |
Power in the pictures you paint | |
Go ahead, wear your stunnas at night | |
All the better you don't see me comin' with the right | |
Then it's the flash of light | |
From the Polaroid captured right | |
In your brain, then it's beddie bye | |
Thought you could chump me like I'm just any guy | |
Off the street and got comfy | |
Underestimated, now you on the other extreme | |
And got me under investigation | |
To see why Di ain't nothin' to play with | |
Nathan, no leads | |
Only thing he gon' see is me punchin' bags | |
Beats danglin' like cuts and slabs | |
Joggin' in place doin' rhythm repetitions | |
That'll have you jaw fall out your face | |
You got a mouth that's out a shape, you loud and fake | |
Stick around and wait for me to drown you in poundin' bass | |
A boomin' system causin' you to listen | |
Like you in prison | |
Now you lay down by my feet | |
Pray the Lord you get up in a week | |
Sir DzL, King Of Fighters | |
Bring on your bigmouths, bring on your writers | |
They gon' be workin' overtime catchin' arthritis | |
Bring whoever do ya hooks, bring your choirs | |
Bring on your phony thugs, they all liars | |
Makes no difference to Di, I'm on fire | |
Funky with it, go ahead, touch me | |
I'm beggin' you, come try to rush me | |
Each fool tryin' to reach through | |
Is gon' need new fingers when the guillotine sweep through | |
Tissue and bone with a scissor kick to the dome | |
Lifted you as if you were floatin', fight officially over | |
And if it ain't, you gon' wish it was over | |
As I issue a cobra clutch shuttin' your motor | |
Skills down like a computer crash, takin' you to the task | |
Rhymes ricochetin' all through your ass | |
The movement is black | |
Already told you it's been proven with fact | |
How I do it like a student of rap | |
Musically adapt to any nuisance or trap | |
Thinkin' that they have a shot | |
If they can just put DzL on freeze | |
But cease | |
I'm Joe Higashi with flow karate | |
Wrestling gators is a old hobby | |
Now I battle cobras and eat poison ivy | |
Shit, jalapenos on the open highway | |
Which hit like a meteor eatin' your established mind state | |
How can I lose? My standards are too high | |
For fools to view, punchin' my kneecaps | |
With the weak raps that you so proud of not writin' down | |
I don't care who like it | |
Obviously style is not a part of the criteria or they not hearin' it | |
It's disposable and holds no real substance | |
So as soon as you step in the ring, it's self destruction | |
Sir DzL, the championship belt you wanted | |
I'm meltin', fuck it | |
Bottoms up, it's just a puddle in a bucket | |
A pot of slush | |
Yeah | |
Fuck the material shit | |
He can't beat me | |
He ain't got the spirit for this | |
Plus he ugly and his mouth too big | |
But this gon' be nationwide | |
Publicly publicized | |
You betta hope I knock you out | |
So you ain't gotta go through the hostile rounds | |
My tiger kick'll make your eyeballs flip | |
My hurricane uppercut'll send you to Oz | |
And while you there, you can ask the wizard | |
If he can give you a job | |
They call me Joe Higashi | |
You can catch my flow on Hitachi | |
Wide screen, you gon' see how I lean with it | |
And roll with it | |
Ol' nigga, they gon' be mad | |
Oh, it's over that quick? I bought 4 tickets | |
So I'm gonna give you the whoopin' | |
You been sayin' I couldn't | |
Soon as they strike the bell | |
You gon' lose all sight and smell | |
You already deaf 'cause your music sucks | |
So only thing left is your sense of touch | |
No, sucker, you lost your sense of taste long ago | |
And I can tell at that ugly ass getup you wore to the show | |
I'm too pretty, I can't let you hit me | |
I'm the greatest of all time |
Ladies and gentlemen, rap fans of all ages | |
Tonight we have a literal state of pandemonium | |
As Sir DzL, aka Joe Higashi, makes his way to the ring | |
As you can see | |
You can almost taste the electricity in the air, ladies and gentlemen | |
The challenger had better live up to the trash | |
He was talking at the press conference two nights ago | |
Or it looks like he' ll be leaving the ring fingerless | |
After Higashi' s signature scissor kick | |
Oh, this is gonna be a good one, rap fans | |
I' m back with the tiger kick | |
Joe Higashi, all team activist of spit swivel grip | |
Crippling blows within editions of flows | |
It' s a gala of gargantuan proportions | |
The greatest show in stereo | |
The weary ol' drag you been hearin' is dead | |
We playin' funk at the burial grounds and it' s a merry ol' sound | |
And a jolly good time when we body fools with rhymes | |
Smell the burnin' flesh when the words of death | |
Bring eternal rest or internal stress | |
Beef or chicken, either way the meat is sickened | |
Bacteria, we here in your kitchen | |
Fools hearin' but they clearly don' t listen | |
Until they sittin' in a twister on they way to Oz | |
And that' s when I' mma holla at y' all | |
' Cause you gon' need the wizard' s expertise | |
If you expect to leave | |
Sir Di, the midnight savior spittin' my flavor | |
Gettin' my paper, neighbor | |
To catch a tiger, you have to try a little harder | |
I already commandeered you cargo | |
Sir DZ, the blue meanie, few see me | |
A new species like ET | |
I' m too pretty | |
I can' t let you hit me | |
I' m the greatest of all time | |
Sir DzL, King Of Fighters | |
Bring on your bigmouths, bring on your writers | |
They gon' be workin' overtime catchin' arthritis | |
Bring whoever do ya hooks, bring your choirs | |
Bring on your phony thugs, they all liars | |
Makes no difference to Di, I' m on fire | |
Funky with it, go ahead, touch me | |
I' m beggin' you, come try to rush me | |
You weak kid, soon as the beat kick | |
You already in deep shit, may as well eat it | |
Put your money where your mouth is | |
In other words, you are what you eat so bon app tit | |
So long to competition, they can' t conquer | |
Or defeat or compete, I stomp out they teeth | |
All 32, metaphorically with words I use | |
Physical? I ain' t finna get into that right now | |
Keepin' on the right route, promote restraint | |
Power in the pictures you paint | |
Go ahead, wear your stunnas at night | |
All the better you don' t see me comin' with the right | |
Then it' s the flash of light | |
From the Polaroid captured right | |
In your brain, then it' s beddie bye | |
Thought you could chump me like I' m just any guy | |
Off the street and got comfy | |
Underestimated, now you on the other extreme | |
And got me under investigation | |
To see why Di ain' t nothin' to play with | |
Nathan, no leads | |
Only thing he gon' see is me punchin' bags | |
Beats danglin' like cuts and slabs | |
Joggin' in place doin' rhythm repetitions | |
That' ll have you jaw fall out your face | |
You got a mouth that' s out a shape, you loud and fake | |
Stick around and wait for me to drown you in poundin' bass | |
A boomin' system causin' you to listen | |
Like you in prison | |
Now you lay down by my feet | |
Pray the Lord you get up in a week | |
Sir DzL, King Of Fighters | |
Bring on your bigmouths, bring on your writers | |
They gon' be workin' overtime catchin' arthritis | |
Bring whoever do ya hooks, bring your choirs | |
Bring on your phony thugs, they all liars | |
Makes no difference to Di, I' m on fire | |
Funky with it, go ahead, touch me | |
I' m beggin' you, come try to rush me | |
Each fool tryin' to reach through | |
Is gon' need new fingers when the guillotine sweep through | |
Tissue and bone with a scissor kick to the dome | |
Lifted you as if you were floatin', fight officially over | |
And if it ain' t, you gon' wish it was over | |
As I issue a cobra clutch shuttin' your motor | |
Skills down like a computer crash, takin' you to the task | |
Rhymes ricochetin' all through your ass | |
The movement is black | |
Already told you it' s been proven with fact | |
How I do it like a student of rap | |
Musically adapt to any nuisance or trap | |
Thinkin' that they have a shot | |
If they can just put DzL on freeze | |
But cease | |
I' m Joe Higashi with flow karate | |
Wrestling gators is a old hobby | |
Now I battle cobras and eat poison ivy | |
Shit, jalapenos on the open highway | |
Which hit like a meteor eatin' your established mind state | |
How can I lose? My standards are too high | |
For fools to view, punchin' my kneecaps | |
With the weak raps that you so proud of not writin' down | |
I don' t care who like it | |
Obviously style is not a part of the criteria or they not hearin' it | |
It' s disposable and holds no real substance | |
So as soon as you step in the ring, it' s self destruction | |
Sir DzL, the championship belt you wanted | |
I' m meltin', fuck it | |
Bottoms up, it' s just a puddle in a bucket | |
A pot of slush | |
Yeah | |
Fuck the material shit | |
He can' t beat me | |
He ain' t got the spirit for this | |
Plus he ugly and his mouth too big | |
But this gon' be nationwide | |
Publicly publicized | |
You betta hope I knock you out | |
So you ain' t gotta go through the hostile rounds | |
My tiger kick' ll make your eyeballs flip | |
My hurricane uppercut' ll send you to Oz | |
And while you there, you can ask the wizard | |
If he can give you a job | |
They call me Joe Higashi | |
You can catch my flow on Hitachi | |
Wide screen, you gon' see how I lean with it | |
And roll with it | |
Ol' nigga, they gon' be mad | |
Oh, it' s over that quick? I bought 4 tickets | |
So I' m gonna give you the whoopin' | |
You been sayin' I couldn' t | |
Soon as they strike the bell | |
You gon' lose all sight and smell | |
You already deaf ' cause your music sucks | |
So only thing left is your sense of touch | |
No, sucker, you lost your sense of taste long ago | |
And I can tell at that ugly ass getup you wore to the show | |
I' m too pretty, I can' t let you hit me | |
I' m the greatest of all time |